


Sung Went Solo

by peachfloat



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 04:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16736745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachfloat/pseuds/peachfloat
Summary: Sung's gone on a solo mission, but what about the other guys?





	Sung Went Solo

“I’m home, Havve, ” Phobos called out into the apartment cheerfully as he shut the front door, just as he did every day. 

Phobos began his daily ritual. Everything was so routine now: Removing his helmet, hanging it on the coat rack, letting his hair fall free, kicking off his shoes without untying them, leaving them by the door. 

“How were your shows?” Phobos continued as he quickly walked between Havve and the television, making his way to his bedroom and throwing his bag on the bed. 

No response, as always. 

“Well, I had a heck of a day,“ Phobos kept going, attempting to fill the silence. 

After Sung had left, Havve broke down. Literally. His digestive system started failing, and although Phobos could slow the process of decay by replacing the mechanical parts, he had to admit he knew nothing about the biological. All he knew was, Havve couldn't eat. Which meant he was running out of fuel. 

It wasn't really a “death,” even though it felt like one, Havve slowly losing energy, every day taking longer to charge, his voice low and drawn out as his batteries kept draining. 

Two years after Sung had left, Havve had shut himself down. He told Phobos what would happen, that all he needed was someone to fix his system and he’d be right back online and back with him. He was more than confident in Sung’s ability to reboot him, he always was.

But that was eight years ago. Sung still hasn't returned, and Phobos still hasn't found anyone in the Earth’s solar system that understands Havve’s primitive cybernetics. Distress calls sent out into space were met with only static. And that bastard Meouch, he bailed only a few months after Sung did, went back to what he does best: smuggling funk and fucking things up for everyone. Neither of them answered Phobos's signals, as if all those years of friendship meant nothing. 

Phobos stopped, realized he was making himself angry, his gritted teeth starting to make his jaw hurt. Pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, he took a deep breath before finishing undressing himself. 

Havve sat in his usual spot: the left side of the couch, cushions sunken in after years of his weight compressing them down. His left arm sat on the armrest, right arm down at his side, remote tucked gently under his open hand as Phobos left the television on for him, just for some background noise. His head was propped up with a pillow so he could see the TV, although his eye lights were dark. 

Crawling under his right arm with his bed comforter in tow, Phobos took the remote out of Havve’s "grip" and patted the back of his hand lovingly.

“You’ve been watching TV all day, it's my turn now, okay?“ Phobos asked, laying his head in Havve’s lap and wrapping the blanket over his legs. 

Phobos had removed Havve’s armor a long time ago, after he’d tried cuddling him and instead got his hair stuck in Havve’s joints, resulting in an embarrassing and painful bald spot. Now Havve only sat in his black bodysuit with his faceplate still on since Phobos knew how uncomfortable Havve was without it. It didn't really matter, no one was in their apartment to see him “naked” nor did he need to wear a suit of armor to watch TV 24/7. 

“I got this bad feeling again, Havve,” Phobos spoke softly as he flipped through the channels. “I feel like… I feel like Sung isn't coming back, you know. Like, I know he wouldn't just leave us here, but I think- I mean- what if something happened to him?“ He continued flipping through channels for a few minutes, before something in him just, _broke._

“No, _you're_ wrong, Havve!“ Phobos yelled, offended as he sprang up out of Havve’s lap “Doctor Sung wouldn't leave us, he's not like Meouch! And- and he's not like- “ Phobos brought both of his hands up, pushing against Havve’s chest roughly. 

“He’s not like fucking _you!_ “ His voice cracked on the end of his sentence, the choking feeling in his throat making hot, angry tears begin streaming down his face. “All of you left me! You left me on this planet to die alone! Our friendship didn't mean anything to any of you, _I_ didn't mean anything to any of you! You-“ Phobos balled his fists in the chest of Havve’s suit, shaking him angrily as he yelled. “You all used me!”

Havve’s head rolled around limply as Phobos shook him. His face pointed downwards as he stopped, looking almost regretful for a hunk of cold metal with no facial expressions. 

Gritting his teeth, Phobos pulled Havve towards him, leaned into the crook of his neck and began bawling loudly, eventually sliding down and weeping into Havve's chest, fingers still clenched into his suit.

After about an hour of unashamed weeping, Phobos seemed unable to cry anymore tears. He felt icy cold, exhausted, his emotions churning in the pit of his stomach. He leaned Havve back against the couch, fluffing his pillow before propping his head up against it as it was. He shuffled down, laying his head in Havve's lap and pulling his blanket up to his chin before speaking again in a much softer tone now. 

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I just… miss him. And I miss Meouch, even though he's an asshole. I miss the band. And… I really miss you, Havve. A lot. You were the only one that stayed with me. I shouldn't have done that to you, it wasn't your fault. I'm sorry. “

They sat quietly for a while, Phobos balancing on the edge of sleep before before becoming frustrated at not actually being able to drift off. 

“I’m gonna change the channel, okay?”


End file.
